1 An Optical Illusion

"This college thing is working out nicely. Brilliant media coverage. The fans love it," the triumphant voice belonging to the head of a modelling agency announced over the phone.

"Oh? Weren't you concerned about my education?" Takumi asked lazily. He looked out of the car's window and saw his own face on an advertisement billboard.

"Who cares about your education? Anyway, don't fuck up in school," Nishioka warned. "We'll pull you out after this term's over."

"What are you going to tell the media?" Takumi wondered. "That I flunked out?"

Nishioka sounded almost bored when he explained, "Of course not. We'll just mention workload, exhaustion and that you need to focus on your art."

Art. All he did was to show his pretty face to cameras. Although one should not refuse the random gift of genetics.

"Sure."

The older man switched topics. "How's the new agent doing?"

"Ogita? He's okay."

"Try to keep to him for a year? Or I'll run out of people to assign to you."

It wasn't him who demanded the constant changes. The situation with the previous agents simply became untenable for various reasons. But Takumi did not wish to dive into the details. It was better for Nishioka to believe that he was just another moody, spoiled and eccentric diva. That was at least not out of line with industry norms.

"Hmm," he said non-committedly. "I'm almost there. See you."

"I mean it, you brat!"

Takumi hung up as his driver pulled up beside the sprawling campus. He adjusted his sunglasses and grabbed his bag.

"My agent will pick me up later. Thanks," he told the family driver.

"Have a good day, sir."

Takumi got out and walked through the gates. Within minutes, the heated whispers, minor shrieks and obvious stares followed. No one was aggressive today, which was a good start.

He ignored it all.

This was a circus act. An idea concocted by the agency to showcase his "ordinary side" after recent negative press which followed an article flagging Takumi's background.

Son of the owner of a food conglomerate and a former actress. Educated by home tutors throughout high school years. Seen in flashy cars and lived in an ostentatious property. Zero social media presence. Distant in interviews. Did he think that he was better than the rest of the common folk, the reporter wondered?

If only the bitch knew the truth. Then her article would really be the stuff worthy of tabloids.

So here he was, playing the part as expected of him.

A group of students saw him and waved. Takumi automatically plastered his commercial smile and went over.

Wealthy students from families that his parents socialized with. His father had issued a stern warning for him to stay in their good graces. Takumi was certain that every one of them had received the same message from his or her sires.

An all-rounded education.

xxxxxxxx

The arrow hit the target. His last shot for today's practice. A little off the center so there were improvements to be made. Akira nodded to himself as if to affirm that thought.

"Good form today," the captain of the club, Katsuki, commented.

"Could be better," Akira said.

Katsuki grinned. "That's the spirit. Don't let your guard down."

Akira nodded. "Understood."

He started to head to the lockers to pack up.

"Hey, wait for me!" Segihara, one of his closer friends, exclaimed. "Let's grab lunch after."

"Sure," Akira agreed.

"Did you see the commotion today?" Segihara asked as they walked together.

There was indeed a minor ruckus earlier. Shrieks and gasps. Akira hadn't paid any attention.

Segihara sighed in exasperation. "A group of rich kids passed by. The model was with them. It's been crazy since he started here!"

Akira was amused by the envy and disgust in Segihara's voice. He shrugged. "Didn't bother me."

"Nothing bothers you," Segihara muttered as they both changed out of their practice gear.

A lot of things bothered Akira. Those things just didn't factor into the psyche of the ordinary college student.

So he just kept quiet.

"I'm surprised they haven't trampled all over him." Segihara shook his head.

Probably due to the dean's warning that any student caught for harassment would be expelled immediately. As it was, the university had extra security due to some of their more illustrious attendees.

Akira hoped that most people would possess some form of self-preservation.

"Not everyone is reckless," he said.

Segihara snorted.

"Although," he brightened. "Did you see the girls checking us out at practice today?"

"You mean checking Katsuki out?" Akira referred to their popular and outgoing captain.

"Don't sell yourself short, my friend. I'm pretty sure some of them were looking at us too."

That was probably true but Akira wasn't paying any attention to that either. He closed his locker and slung his bags over his shoulder.

They walked out of the room and made their way towards the cafeteria.

"Speaking of which, you're coming to the party this Friday," Segihara went on. "Don't bail out. I promised some friends that you'll show up."

"You're managing my social calendar now?" Akira asked sardonically.

Segihara merely laughed. "Of course! You're too serious, man. We're in college. Have some fun."

"Don't I?" he mused.

"Yeah, sure. Your definition of fun needs some serious adjustment." Segihara genuinely found the notion amusing.

Akira thought about Segihara's comment.

He enjoyed partying with his friends and the attention of the members of the opposite sex as any guy would. In fact, he was open to harmless flirtations with members of both genders.

What he couldn't explain was that there was a part of him which simply couldn't find a connection with any of them.

That was not arrogance. That was fact, backed by the files in his child psychologist's computer.

"I'll be there."